black sheep

Numb with disbelief, sometimes.

image from morguefile.com



black sheep




i am a sheep
i whine
i fear when
         the next meal
             will not come
i really dread
         the sky falling
             clouds and all
i could not
         use it like
             a blanket
             anymore
i may not
         pick myself up
             from a fall
i see my
         tired feet
             slouching on
             dry asphalt
and i am
mumbling what costs have skyrocketed
but who listens?
who understands?
and when we had the chance at the poll booths

we threw it all away.


29/07/2016
**********

---

“Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence.”

― Leonardo da Vinci


Chao Chuan [ 趙傳 ] - I'm a Small, Little Bird [我是一隻小小鳥]

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

every morning the sun looks in (#2)

in limbo in the city, and in grief...

photo by dsnake1



every morning the sun looks in (#2)


Every morning the sun looks in with the gaze of a bored child.
The dust on the linoleum is thick but what is another million motes?

I am just waiting for that grenade to roll across that linoleum floor.
It's not that we like to argue but the words are lost in translation.

But now I would give anything to hear us argue again, no translations.
You say I am handsome in a dumb way and is probably not a virgin.

You are beautiful in a dumb way, the way you look into the future.
Everyone said you are a Japanese but the only word you know is sayonara.

Kyoto, sakura, Harajku, but the only word I said to you is sayonara.
Anything that occured on this planet, passes us by, the planet crying.

They say the Paris Peace Talks stalled, but the planet is nonchalant.
I watch young kids grow up into gangsters but you didn't watch with me.

Remember that kid yelling, fuck!, and you go to him with a pair of scissors?
Every morning the sun looks in with the gaze of a bored child.



21/04/2023
**********



This form is called a duplex poem. It is a combination of the sonnet, the ghazal and the blues. It has 14 lines, arranged in couplets, in which the first line of the couplet repeats words and phrases from the previous line. For the last couplet, the last line repeats the very first line.

---

A Perfect Circle - Eat The Elephant

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2023

getting out

the only enemy is yourself...

photo by Chad Madden at Unsplash



getting out


you cringe and seethe
in this dark room
a room with no windows
while just outside
there is sunlight
and warmth and laughter.
you can save yourself
and all you need to do
is just to open the door.



23/06/2016
**********

---

Cream - White Room

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

wonderland

“because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

photo of a sculpture at Gardens By The Bay by dsnake1



wonderland


how long was he there, sleeping, head on the stone table in the void deck, blackbirds pecking at his forgotten boxed lunch?

if your words hurt then touch me, charm me so that the hole i am dropping in won't feel so deep, the rocks no more sharp.

out in the streets, in the weak moonlight, i am trying to find my shadow, the big trucks passing, just two steps away from hell.

and how deep can we sink before we drown, before the lungs fold slowly like accordions and we finally forget how to cry?

if we grow wings we would spread them, jump and fly together, never mind the distances, the abysses and the load
  /
/
we carry.



23/11/2020
**********

---

Drop's -「月光」(moonlight)

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2021

dark side of the moon, part #2

imagine what a messed-up chair top can inspired...

photo by dsnake1



dark side of the moon, part #2



we have to land, she says. we have to jettison some stuff. the fuel, some cargo.
but the people down there, the villages?
fuck the villages, she says

and she runs her ferrari right through the lights...


20/10/2018
**********

this piece partly inspired by news of supercar drivers behaving badly...

---

Rolling Stones - Paint It Black

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2020

slag

it is not just about the haze that rolls in from indonesia. perhaps it is more than that...

photo by dsnake1
of an art installation at a museum



slag



it does not look like red slag
from a furnace
red like a bruise on a face
after a fist fight
it has been like that
since september
a dragon's breath
it blows teeth
sharp as razors
the sweat rolling
down scalps
to sizzle
on dry asphalt
the words hot
           hot
scalding

the sky
a frenzy of grey hammerheads

           circling



30/10/2015
**********



this is one of the poems that i wanted to submit for a poetry competition. i think it is not too bad. and yes, what good timing, the haze has just rolled in from indonesia...

---

The sky is not falling
but it is growing teeth

*

from “All the Sweat Inside My Handshake” by David Greenspan


This is a prompt from the Bibliomancy Oracle. It can work in hysterical ways.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2019

get the cuffs off or throw away the key

Another one for the GPA2015. Depressing, I know, and a poor choice for a competition poem.

digital drawing by dsnake1 using Sketchpad



get the cuffs off or throw away the key


shadows
bend & creep

green moss clings
to walls
they
nutured by rains
phlegm & tears
they bend & creep

obstinate
silent

you do not even want to hear
what I wanted to say!

the walls
surrendering cracks
they bend & creep
you could hear their
sighs
if you try hard enough
the whitewash bleaching
leaching
sepia tongues
they bend & creep

grey dust crumble
on trembling fingers

the blackbirds gather in trees silent
even they did not want to quarrel

the air hangs dry
bleeding
crackling static

it

has been this way
for years

the taste on tongues still bitter
as
the
shadows
bend & creep


01/08/2013
**********

---

and I wonder if it takes being broken
open and emptied
to be filled with something new.

*

from “Thinking Like a Split Melon” by Jamaal May


This poem was inspired by the above lines from the Bibliomancy Oracle and an episode in a relationship. It can work in bitter ways.

And a song for the day : Daryl Hall & John Oates - Screaming Through December

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018

beyond reason

“I'm afraid I can't explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?”

― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

digital montage by dsnake1




beyond reason



damnit we did chop down a tree to get at its fruits

the other day i swing a sledgehammer to crush a fly
do you have to drop that bomb on hiroshima?
do you need a blowtorch to melt that snowflake?

the succubus dances and flirts in the neon night
meth peddlers holler your name in dim alleys
we are snakes, coiled and uncoiled, wary

but we were younger then, we live on air alone
the night is our lover and wears a cheap perfume
who are afraid of snakes in the weeds?

the pen looks at me, gives a finger and goes back to sleep
it does not want to speak of battles and love
we just like to do things this way, lots of drama

until

in the dark room 3 a.m. i wish for the rain to come
but instead it is a police cruiser, silent, no sirens
the blue red of its strobes flutter on the panes

damnit, do you need to call the cops because you can't sleep?





written    : 15/07/2014
extended : 19/12/2016
*******************



Yes, I am really not myself. You see, my desktop PC decided to quit on Chinese New Year's eve, and with it went a chunk of my poems and scans and photos. Arrg! what an idiot not to backup all the stuff. And man, it is the Lunar New Year, and that means a couple of weeks of spring cleaning, heavy spending , inadequate sleep and binge drinking.
Normally, I will write something nice for the new year. But, well. I am posting from a borrowed MacBook, so yeah, please bear with me. ☢

---

You will wonder did I make all that fire just to kill a snake?

*

from “Bombyonder” by Reb Livingston


This poem was inspired by the above lines from the Bibliomancy Oracle and the current crazy state of wold affairs. It can work in mind-altering ways.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2017

flare

Some days are worse than Mondays. Especially if you think the world is out to get you...

photo by pedrojperez at morguefile.com




flare



some days the sun is a magnesium flare
the people in the streets wipe sweat
off their noses, seeking shadows
to hide in, this town, and you
expect the walls and roads
to crumble and collapse.
you duck into a cafe
hoping there's cash
left in the pockets
for a set lunch.
you are surprised
the air-con is cold
the tiles clean, spotless
the clientele polite, making
just small noises, forks poking
at plates, you take the day's papers
the headlines, the black ink staring back

Paris Peace Talks Stalled
North Vietnamese negotiators walk out.

who cares about U.S. air raids when you just
want to look for the jobs vacant pages?
and then the girl brings you your food
she is plump, her hair tied in a bun
her thighs in a short short skirt
ravishingly creamy, fiery sexy
and you really thought of
making hot love to her
and outside the sun
just screams and
shines blindly
belligerently
an exploding

ball of
hegemony.


02/09/2016
**********

---

"and all i could do was
sweat out the summer,
dripping with rage
while the days ran hot
and the rain trees bled
dead brown leaves,"

-- dsnake1, peace


Shared on Poetry Pantry #327 at Poets United.

---

© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2016